


Blood-Burnished Copper

by ladylangst



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, Angst, Camp Half-Blood (Percy Jackson), Gen, Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27930937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladylangst/pseuds/ladylangst
Summary: Lance never knew he was a half-blood, but now he's going to make it his mission to rescue the camper that helped him make it to Camp Half-Blood. Matt Holt risked his life to save him. It's only fair that Lance saves him from that horrible cyclops named Sendak.He's totally got this under control, though, who knew quests could be this hard?
Relationships: Allura & Coran & Hunk & Keith & Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt & Shiro, Allura/Lotor (Voltron), Ezor & Lance (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron), Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt, Lance & Shiro (Voltron), Lance/undecided
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Blood-Burnished Copper

**Author's Note:**

> Percy Jackson AU, but with Lance leading the show. Let me know what you think!

Leaves rustle and branches snap as something barrels through the darkening woods. Lance presses his shoulder into the papery, peeling bark of the tree that he’s perched in and twists his face in concentration. Apparently, all of the horror movies that he’s watched are wrong. Moonlight does absolutely nothing to help in dimly-lit, creepy forests. Lance squints in the direction of the masses of brush surrounding the small clearing, trying to pinpoint the direction of the noises. Then, he carefully raises the bow that he stole from gym class with trembling hands. All of the noise in the woods stops, and Lance holds his breath.

Seconds later, a girl is standing in the center of the clearing. Lance remembers her from his calculus class. Though, she’s definitely not the inconspicuous cheerleader that he thought she was. One of her legs glows with coppery light, while the other looks like it’s covered in thick, matted fur. Basically, she’s a crazy cyborg-horse-cheerleader. 

Lance winces. Along with the new monster limbs, her face and arms are covered in dirt. It’s horrible. Bethany has always had such nice skin. It’s going to take weeks to fix the damage she’s doing. If she lives, that is. Man, Lance knew he should have asked her about her skincare routine before she went psycho. 

He holds his breath as the ex-cheerleader raises her head to look around the trees. Lance thinks he can see her sniffing the air too. That’s so weird. He raises the bow with trembling hands, and he pulls back the string until his finger brushes the corner of his mouth. He lets out a small sigh, and then curses internally. Bethany’s crimson eyes snap up to meet his. He lets go of the bowstring without hesitation, and a blink later his arrow sinks into her snarling, lipstick-smeared mouth. She gags, and her body collapses like a puppet with its strings cut. 

Lance jumps down from the tree as fast as he can, but he doesn’t bother checking to see if she’s out for good. He darts back into the woods without looking back. Those girls have taken some seriously deadly hits, but they just keep coming back. He’s been on the run for a week straight, and he’s not sure how much longer he can keep this up. Freshman year track and field has not done a good job in preparing him for this situation. 

Well, that’s kind of a moot point. Nothing could have prepared him for this. Who in their right mind would expect Garrison High’s entire cheerleading squad to be a hoard of murderous mutants that all seem to be out for Lance’s blood? He’s been trying to catch their attention all year, but this is totally not what he had in mind. Heck, even a trip to taco bell, as unappealing as that is, would have been a better hang-out than this. 

Something rustles in the leaves behind him, and Lance doubles his speed, sprinting as fast as he can through the maze of trees. He vaults over a rotting stump and starts zig zagging his way forward. The sound of a creek echoes in the distance, and Lance is so relieved he could cry. He pushes his legs to go even faster, racing to the bank of a shallow stream cutting through the trees. 

It’s not a huge stream, but it’s deep enough for Lance to fit into. He sinks silently into the water, scrubbing harshly at his skin with the mossy liquid. He’s probably ruining months of work with his moisturizing routine, but he doesn’t have a choice. His mama would kill him if he died because he didn’t want to ruin his pores. Lance snorts quietly and moves downstream a couple of meters. Then, he makes his way to the other side of the bank. If this works, those cheerleaders are going to have a ridiculously hard time tracking him now. 

He jogs back into the woods, but he doesn’t start sprinting again until the sound of running water fades into the distance. His clothes cling to his skin in the frigid air, and Lance wishes he had his worn, green jacket with him. Sadly, he used it to bandage the wound that Matt had gotten when the student teacher helped him escape from the school without getting eaten. He was supposed to meet lance at the bus station an hour later, but he never came. 

Lance shakes his head and fights back a trembling shiver. He can worry about Matt later, heck, maybe he beat Lance to the camp. It wouldn’t surprise Lance. He’s been running blind for a week trying to find the stupid place. 

Something crashes in the brush to his left, and Lance’s heart stutters in his chest. He doesn’t think he’ll last much longer. Though, After a few more paces, Lance realizes that he might not have to. Up ahead, there’s a break in the trees. His arms are burning hotter than his mama’s enchilada sauce, and his breathing sounds worse than his grandpa’s, but he forces himself to run even faster. More snapping sounds come from behind him, and Lance thinks he hears someone cursing. It’s probably Miranda. She’s always had the mouth of a sailor, and Lance hasn’t managed to take her down yet. 

He dashes out of the trees and into the open. About twenty meters ahead stands a giant oak tree. A piece of golden fabric sits draped in it’s branches, shimmering softly in the moonlight. Oh, finally. Lance grins through the pain in his chest, and he makes a mad-dash for the top of the hill. If he can just make it to the border, he’ll be safe. At least, that’s what Matt said before he physically shoved Lance out of the high school. Lance has his doubts, but now isn’t the time to test them. 

The distance to the tree isn’t that far, but Lance is only half-way there when an arrow flies past him, slicing his thigh before sinking into the grass in front of him. As he stumbles, he shouts something that should never be said in polite company. He reaches for the arrow with tingling fingers and groans. It’s one of his own. He looks over his shoulder to find three rumpled, murderous cheerleaders heading straight for him. 

Bethany is leading the group. She looks him dead in the eye as she draws back her arm, hurtling another arrow at him with more strength than his tacky, gym bow could ever manage. He throws himself to the side. The arrow just misses his head. He grabs it and scrambles back to his feet. He doesn’t think he can make it to the top of the hill before they catch him, but he might be able to buy himself some time. 

He notches his bow with blood pounding in his ears, and he fires directly at Bethany. It sinks into her side with a sickening squelch, but she doesn’t stop this time. She crutches her side with blood-stained fingers, and she keeps sprinting towards him. Lance can feel the blood drain from his face. Well, this proves it. There is no fury like a woman scorned. He’s never been more scared in his life. 

Lance turns and starts scrambling back up the hill. If he can’t fight them, he’ll have to outrun them. He’s been the star of his track team for at least three weeks. This should be easy, but it’s not. He’s been running for so long that his legs feel like lead. Lance can almost taste the adrenaline pumping through him. They’re going to catch him. He’s not going to make it. 

Everything slows down and comes into focus. When Bethany’s crusty, red nails dig into his arm, Lance whirls around faster than she can blink, and slams his bow into her head. She lets go of him. He slams his body into hers, and he knocks her down. He takes one of his arrows and stabs it through her uniform, pinning her to the ground. 

The other two monsters are close now. Lance fires off an arrow faster than he thought he could, and it cuts into Miranda’s stupid, perfect eyeliner. Then, the last girl lunges for him. He stumbles out of the way, breathing heavily. She snarls and turns back for him, glaring with her crimson eyes. He’s out of arrows. This is literally his worst nightmare. 

Lance’s grip goes white on his bow. When the cheerleader gets close enough, he smacks her over the head. Then, he turns and sprints with all he has in him. He can hear the three girls struggling behind him, but he doesn’t stop running. 

It isn’t until he passes the tree with the glimmering, golden coat, that he notices the arrow sticking out of his side. This really isn’t his lucky day.


End file.
